


columbine.

by vesperify



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Hanahaki Disease, M/M, lucky week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 09:08:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8660989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vesperify/pseuds/vesperify
Summary: He was choking, suffocating, and he didn’t know why. [ lucky week - day 6 ]





	

No one knew when it started, really.

They were too busy with the war to notice something so small, so inconsequential.

He’d been staring at the carvings in the ship railings, a finger trailing over the butterfly drawings when he’d felt the itch in his throat. It had just been one little cough, inconsequential and small. He pressed his fist to his mouth, trying to cover up his cough to be polite.

“Lavi, are you alright?”

Lavi stood straight, his hand falling to his side as he greeted his long-haired friend. “Lenalee~ I’m fine, I’m fine. Just coughing a bit - it’s probably the seaside air, yanno?”

Lavi stepped towards his friend, summoning a smile as he brought up a new topic to discuss.

He didn’t notice the single, purple petal float away.

* * *

Edo was a shitshow.

Lavi barely had time to think; too much happened at once - Allen died, Lenalee was injured, entire ship crew was obliterated, stronger Akuma, the Ark, the Earl-

And there, a Noah stood in front of him, smirking with a hand stretched out to an ominous, black butterfly. Just the sight of him filled Lavi with disgust (‘ _except his disgust felt oddly more like regret and sadness’_ ). This was the man who’d killed Allen, who had sunk his arm into his younger friend’s chest and killed him.

Tyki Mikk.

The name tasted like flower petals on his tongue, somehow sweet, and his mind was filled with rage (sadness), with hatred (regret), screaming for retribution (to feel those hands in his again-)  for what he’d done to their family of exorcists. Never mind the fact that Lavi wasn’t meant to care, wasn’t raised to love, wasn’t supposed to feel anything for his comrades at the Black Order.

(Somehow, he felt as though something was wrong with his head as wave after wave of irrational emotions ran through him before ceasing to exist.)

Lavi burst forward, screaming with rage as he swung his hammer towards to Noah. For a minute, he thought he’d seen surprise flicker over the Noah’s face, but he ignored it, ignored the sudden jolting in his stomach, the spasm in his hands. He ignored the small spike of nausea spewing in his stomach at the oddly serious expression on the Noah’s face.

(By why it looked odd was a mystery.)

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“What do you mean? You killed Allen!”

He saw the Noah frown, confusion washing over his face. “Did you care about that boy that much? Really, Lavi?”

“How the fuck do you know my name?”

And there, the Noah’s face completely shut down. The light died in his eyes, smirk falling into a hard line, and his whole body seemed to tense. “Careful, lovely. I don’t particularly care whether we’re near your friends or not, but don’t pretend you don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?” Lavi gritted his teeth, itching to summon his fire stamp. He swung his hammer down where the Noah had stood, cursing under his breath as his enemy sunk into the ground.

On his tongue was the sweet taste of columbine, though he didn’t know why.

* * *

They survived Edo, and they survived the Ark.

But really, couldn’t they get at least a week without having to fight!?

Lavi pressed his hand to his mouth, hacking up a cough. He felt short of breath, his lungs demanding more air. His body still ached at every movement, but he was an exorcist and their base was under attack, dammit! He couldn’t afford to wait around, not when Lenalee was risking her life,; when their only line of defense at the moment was Allen.

Even without Innocence, he fought.

But, once the battle ended and the Noah of Lust escaped, Lavi collapsed against Kanda, struggling to force air into his lungs. It felt as though his airways were blocked, covered, and he hacked up a cough. Kanda was shouting something at him, possibly shaking him, but there were black spots dancing in his vision, blurring out images as he tried to breathe. Faintly, he felt his arm being slung around Kanda’s shoulders, the long-haired exorcist dragging him along.

Lavi coughed, one hand pressed firmly against his mouth. He was choking, suffocating, and he didn’t know why.

The sweet taste of flowers pressed against his tongue as something soft, delicate, passed up his throat and into his mouth. He felt it leave his lips. Slowly, the redhead lifted his palm, finding delicate columbine petals in his hand.

“What the fuck is that?” He felt Kanda pause. The redhead looked towards his friend, finding the other exorcist gazing down at his hand incredulously. Lavi wheezed, another coughing fit cutting off his reply. More spurred petals left his mouth, drifting lazily to the ground, each a muted purple mixing with white.

Lavi could only stare in shock at the pile of columbine petals gathering at his feet.

(The colours made his heart ache.)

* * *

But even then, the fighting never stopped.

Bookman or not, he was still an exorcist, and he refused to back down even as he choked on a delicately sweet taste.

* * *

 

The Thirds were out of control and there was a Noah, watching and laughing maniacally, delighting as the exorcists struggled to fight their friends.

Lavi’s vision was blurring, black holes puncturing his vision. He could barely stand straight. The world was turning on its axis and he felt his arms shake. He needed air, he needed to breathe, but he could barely inhale a breath to fill his lungs. He retched as more flower petals came up his throat, mocking him as he tried to help to his friends, tried to fight against the Noah, tried-

Eventually, the strain of trying to fight, to protect, was too much for his body and he collapsed, gasping for air as he choked on flower petals. Bookman was shouting at him, screaming at him to ‘ _get up, you idiot apprentice, this isn’t the time for a nap!’_ and he faintly remembered that he never told Bookman he was sick, that something was wrong with him, very wrong, so wrong that he-

His vision turned black as he slowly suffocated on a faintly rose-like scent.

* * *

There’s nothing but pain in his body. The Noah that had captured them, Fiidora, had inserted… something into his body. A parasite. An infection.

As though his body wasn’t already trying to die on him.

* * *

The Noah of Desire made an appearance, his face contorted with rage as he screamed something about _Road, Road, my precious Road, why is she gone? What did you do to my daughter? What was her relationship with the Fourteenth, answer me, Bookman!_

And then there was pain, more pain than he could remember feeling in his life. Every inch of him burned, sharper than any fire he’d ever felt. He was thrown around, his body a mere rag doll suffering in the hands of a deranged man. Still, he managed to push out a couple of words, telling Bookman to stay strong, that Lavi’s life didn’t really matter. There was too much at stake, and so he would willingly give up his life to protect the Order, to protect his fellow exorcists, his friends-

The Noah of Desire had just stepped towards him when the exorcist coughed, head hunched over as he vomited spurred petals. The purple and whites floated onto the black leather of the Noah’s shoes, covering the harsh tone with their delicate hues. There was a burning in his throat, in his chest, the air stolen from his lungs. He couldn’t control his body anymore, couldn’t control the spasms of his body as it desperately fought for air.

He felt a hand in his hair, roughing shoving his head up. The Noah of Desire’s lips were curled in disgust. “What’s wrong with him?”

Lavi struggled to see, to look over at where his elder was seated calmly on a cushiony chair. After a moment of deliberation, the Noah tightened his grip, slowly lifting the redhead by his hair. Bookman caved, a single word echoing in the room.

“Hanahaki.”

The old man looks pensive, if a bit disappointed, as he stared back at his apprentice. The Noah paused, his eyes narrowed. “Hanahaki? What is that?”

“It’s a disease.” Lavi tensed, his fingers twitching. “A disease affecting people who hold unrequited loves.” Then, quietly, as though Bookman didn’t want the Noah to hear, he whispered, “Stupid apprentice, you’re a Bookman. You aren’t supposed to have a heart, so how did you go and fall in love? Who are you in love with?”

Every muscle on Lavi’s body froze. He stared down at the purple and white petals, stomach twisting uncomfortably.

In love?

He wasn’t in love.

The sight of petals at his feet seemed to mock him, taunting him. _You’re in love, you’re in love, but you don’t even know who it is. You’re a Bookman, but you lost your heart and you’ll never get it back-_

Who was he in love with?

He choked on columbine, - betrayal; this flower meant spurned lovers, meant betrayal in every way - the petals filling his mouth.

Who did he love?

He wheezed as his mind started to race, flipping through faces, though every one of his memories. Was it Chomesuke? No, it couldn’t have been her. She was an Akuma, doomed from the start, and he had barely known her. Was it Lenalee? No, that girl was more like a precious little sister that needed to be protected from the world. Was it Allen? Kanda? Chaoji? Who, who was it that he loved, who did he-

* * *

He was going to die.

The petals came up past his shins, surrounding him as they came to bury them in their light embrace. His limbs hurt, bones broken, skin bruised. Even breathing hurt, a wheeze escaping his lips each time he tried to take in air. Each exhale brought in on an onslaught of columbine petals, bright purple, and delicate, yet choking his every breath. All he could see was the wash of purples and whites, fading into each other, covering his lap and climbing up his legs. Each breath was harder and harder, each cough bringing more petals to bury him.

The Noah of Desire was ruthless, but Bookman had refused to concede.

Lavi was going to die, choking on petals, from a love he couldn’t even remember.

(Black butterflies, grey skin, stigmata lined up on a forehead- but he’d spent so much time around the Noah at this point that he could barely trust his own mind.)

And already, he felt cold. Colder than when he’d been on the streets, just a child without a home, wishing desperately for something, anything to save him-

But there was something warm on his face.

Lavi struggled to focus his eye, trying to see past the purples, the whites, the delicate curves and sharp points that he’d grown accustomed to.

There was a striking gold, piercing into him.

He felt his heart skip a beat, stuttering pathetically with- fear? Anxiety? Anticipation…? He couldn’t tell. The fingers on his face were warm, calming, and slowly, Lavi closed his eye, leaning into the touch. It had been so long since he’d felt anything other than pain. For something gentle to be given to him, even for a moment…

He craved the warmth.

Even if it meant he would die at the hands of a Noah.

He could feel Bookman’s eyes boring into him as he sighed, a soft exhale pitched by a wheeze. Yet, for the first time in what seemed like months, his lungs were clear, no columbines blocking his airways, no petals for him to choke on, no-

“Tyki, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Sheryl. He’s going to die anyways.”

“I’m not done-”

“Bookman isn’t going to talk. Wisely’s already said that Road is fine - she’ll be back.You need to calm down.”

He could feel arms hooking under his legs, another arm wrapped around his shoulder as he was lifted from his seat. Somewhere inside him, a voice was yelling at him, screaming that he needed to fight back, that this was his chance to strike back against the Noah, to finally be free-

But he was tired of fighting. And for once, for the first time in a long time, he was being treated gently, with warmth instead of the coldness that came with being a Bookman in a war zone.

He could hear Bookman asking questions, could feel himself being nested delicately in warm, strong arms. He loosely grabbed onto the Noah of Pleasure’s clothes, clinging weakly with what strength he had left.

Somehow, this felt familiar.

* * *

Lavi felt himself being lowered onto a bed. He struggled weakly, panic immediately welling up within him. Nothing good could come from the comfort of a Noah, he knew, and he was finally free, he had a chance to fight back. But he was tired, hurt, and he shook as he tried to push away from the gentle hands weakly holding his.

“Lavi, relax. I had Fiidora to remove the parasites from your body while you were unconscious the other day.”

In reply, Lavi tried to spit on the Noah’s face, but instead only managed to spit out the violet spurred petals of columbines.

“I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. Just try to relax.” The Noah let go of his hands, opting to sit on the edge of the bed instead. Lavi wheezed, choking on the sickly sweet smell of columbines. He turned to his side, hiding his face in the bed sheets as he coughed up more flowers. His chest burned, stomach muscles aching from his constant need to expel the petals from his body.

He suddenly felt gentle fingers in his hair, lightly brushing through his red locks. He sighed deeply, feeling his body unwillingly relax. Somehow, this touch seemed soothing, seemed tender and kind and familiar in ways he couldn’t quite understand. The burning in his chest seemed to lift, if only a little, as the Noah of Pleasure (‘ _Tyki Mikk_ ,’ a voice in head helpfully supplied) watched him with a gaze far more sad than Lavi could stand.

This was, after all, his enemy.

They spent what seemed like an eternity in silence, the Noah (‘ _Tyki, you idiot, this person is-_ ’) never once looking away from the exorcist. Lavi continued to hide his face in the bed sheets, panting for breath as a multitude of petals were forcefully ejected from his lungs.

God, it hurt. It hurt, it hurt so much he could die-

“You know, you never gave me a chance to reply.” Tyki’s voice cut through the silence. Suddenly, Lavi felt lips brushing against the tip of his ear, making his entire face flush bright red. He opened his mouth to yell at the Noah, to tell him to back off when he heard quiet words whispered in his ear.

“I love you too. So come back to me now, okay?”

Lavi shot up in surprise, pain erupting from every portion of his body. “What are you-”

Immediately, there were lips on his lips, soft yet begging as they moved against his.

And with the taste of columbines in his mouth, Lavi let his one eye flutter closed, arms moving to wrap around the person he’d left behind.

* * *

 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Hey, Tyki?” The Noah behind him grunted, the arm wrapped around his waist tightening ever so slightly. Lavi huffed, a bit of a laugh escaping from his lips. He could feel lips on his neck, gently pressed against his skin, not quite kissing, but indicating that his lover was there. Lavi’s gaze fell onto the sheets of the bed, teeth chewing on his bottom lip. “Tyki, are you listening to me?”

He felt more than heard the Noah nod. With a shaky breath, Lavi turned in the Noah’s embrace, his arms coming to wrap around Tyki’s neck.

“You know this war is getting worse, right?”

“So?”

Lavi’s hands came down to play with Tyki’s hair, fingers twisting the strands as he’d done hundreds of times before. “I’m an exorcist, Tyki. We’re going to be enemies soon.”

“No, we won’t.” The Noah replied immediately, no hesitation in his voice or his eyes. Lavi paused, trying to think of how to maneuver this conversation. He didn’t want to hurt Tyki, but there was no turning back from the choice he’d made.

“Yes. Yes, we do. I’m sorry Tyki, but I have to forget.” He could feel the Noah tensing, could see apprehension and anger and hurt spill into his golden gaze. But still, Lavi continued, fingers nervously playing with his lover’s hair. He pressed a quick kiss to Tyki’s cheek. “Next time we meet, I won’t know who you are. I won’t recognise your face. I’m going to make myself forget and it’ll be as though we’ve never met.”

“Why?” Lavi could almost feel his heart break (‘ _the heart you were never supposed to have-_ ’) at his lover’s voice. It was meek, quiet in a way he’d never hoped to hear.

“‘Lavi’ shouldn’t exist, yet he does because of the ties I’ve made. Allen. Lenalee. Kanda. You. But Tyki, I’m a Bookman, and I can’t betray that.” The Bookman’s apprentice retracted his hand, choosing to stroke one finger down Tyki’s face. The older man’s eyes fluttered shut, pain etched into his face.

“So you’d rather betray me?”

“You can’t love something that doesn’t exist.” Tyki drew the redhead closer to him, burying his face in the exorcist’s slender neck. “Tyki, I’m going to disappear some day. Isn’t it better to let me go sooner than later?”

“No. I don’t want to let you go.” The Noah’s voice was muffled, spoken against Lavi’s neck. “I won’t. Even if you forget me, I’ll bring you back to me.”

Lavi shuddered, feeling his own heart rebel against his decision.

But in the end, there wasn’t really a choice, was there?

“Tyki. I’m sorry. I love you.”

“And I-”

“Don’t say it. Forget about me, about us. And when we meet again, don’t hold back on me.”


End file.
